


Laconic

by cheshirecat101



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Asexual Character, Asexual Will, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mizumono Spoilers, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Post-Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Top Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3205349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will decides life is better lived with Abigail and Hannibal, and flees the country with them. However, not everything is happy in his newfound family...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laconic

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, so Hannigraham has just been infecting my life recently and this idea popped into my head and I couldn't help but write it. It had to be done. Friendly reminder that I do commissions; if you're interested, please email me at the email address on my profile. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

“Ah, Will!”

The cry of his name, soft as it was, only increased the sickness in his stomach, and he wondered whether or not today would be like the first days, when he would actually get sick on the bedsheets, throw up and “ruin the mood” that he wasn’t trying to set in the first place. It’d been what, months, now, since the last time he did that? Yes, they’d been here for a few months now, though it’d been several since they left, from that rainy night in Hannibal’s kitchen when things could have gone so differently. Sometimes he wished they had.

He slapped a hand to the headboard as he suddenly lost his balance at a particularly hard thrust from Hannibal, his other arm shaking slightly with the effort of keeping his body up, posed for this. He slipped to his elbows instead, hearing a soft ‘tsk’ from Hannibal at the readjustment in position, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he’d gotten off all fours, or adjusted in some way that decreased the amount of pleasure that Hannibal was currently experiencing. Hannibal should have been so absorbed in what he was doing that he shouldn’t have even noticed the move on Will’s part.

To make up for it, Will arched his back seductively and rocked back against Hannibal, offering a moan he didn’t feel. Hannibal always liked it better when he at least _pretended_ to be participating, like a whore faced with dealing with a client they didn’t particularly like. He certainly felt like a whore, offering himself up to a man that he’d never loved and never would, selling him sex and the false promise of love in order to protect himself, and more importantly, Abigail. That was what he had to remind himself of every time he did this, every time he gave himself over to Hannibal. That he was doing this all for Abigail.

Hannibal finished with a grunt and a final thrust, spilling into Will and resting there for a moment, draping his warm weight over Will’s back. Will stayed still, letting him enjoy the afterglow, but he could only do it for so long, and after a minute pulled away, moving to lie on his side on the bed as Hannibal shifted off of him. Hannibal laid down on his side next to him, facing him, his breathing slightly labored as he came down off of his high, completely relaxed in Will’s presence. Fearing nothing from the man who’d once wanted to kill him, because Will was no longer a threat. Just a kept pet, something to be played with and looked after and taken care of. He wasn’t sure how Hannibal saw him anymore, but knew without a doubt that he still loved him.

It was there in his eyes as he looked at Will now, reaching out to brush a few of his sweat slicked curls away from his face. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, a hint of concern in his voice even though they always went through this routine. Have sex, ask if Will was alright, move on to other things, then hold Will against him as if it was only the two of them in the world. And certainly, Hannibal seemed to feel that way, seemed to think that it was only them and Abigail, and nothing else mattered. That _was_ his world, nothing outside of the two of them now that he’d stopped being the Chesapeake Ripper, afraid of drawing attention in their new surroundings. Though Will wanted him to draw all the attention he could, wanted the FBI to track him down and capture him, even if Will had to go to jail as an accomplice. That way, at least Abigail would be free. Safe.

“I’m fine,” Will lied, always lied, always told Hannibal anything but the truth. Because he wanted him to buy into the lie, wanted him to believe that Will truly did love and care for him. It was the only way to ensure that Hannibal didn’t just kill the both of them and leave on his own, what Will was sure he’d been planning on doing that night if Will hadn’t agreed to go with him. Take Abigail and run, it didn’t matter where to, as long as they were all safe, one small happy family, though that was an impossible ideal. Because Will couldn’t love Hannibal, not when he’d taken so much away from him and done so much damage. But he could pretend, for safety’s sake. Better to be with Hannibal than against him, he’d learned that through his time in the BSHCI. If he had to take advantage of Hannibal’s love for him, he would, and had back then as well. He did it now too, using it to manipulate him as best he could when Hannibal tried to manipulate him, which was less frequently now that they were together in this sham of a relationship.

He could tell that Hannibal didn’t believe his words, but the older man didn’t mention it, instead gently commanding, “Lie on your back.” Will complied, knowing what was coming next as Hannibal sank down between his legs to finish Will off when Will was hardly in the mood. Was hardly ever in the mood, honestly. Mostly because he wasn’t attracted to men that way, even if he’d been romantically attracted to them before. He wasn’t sure if he was attracted to anyone that way, even though he enjoyed sex with women, and Hannibal could still get him off. Sex had just never been an important part of his life. Neither had romance, though, really. He’d never been lucky in that area. Case in point.

When it was all over, they lay together in the bed, Will’s head on Hannibal’s silver hair covered chest, both of them resting now that things were done. Will closed his eyes, listening to the steady beat of Hannibal’s heart and wishing that it would just stop all of a sudden, without any warning. He just wanted to feel safe again, and he was sure that Hannibal had wondered before if Will felt safe in his arms. The answer was no, because he was always waiting for the plunge of a blade, always wondering if today would be the day that Hannibal killed him, slowly, intimately. That was the only way that Hannibal would do it. Will was special to him, he deserved a special death. Abigail would be next, also deserving of a special death. But hopefully that day would never come.

He sighed lightly, and Hannibal’s hand began to draw itself up his spine, gently petting him like any good owner pet their dog. “You don’t have to lie to me, Will,” he said, his voice soft, gentle. Far too gentle. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Will didn’t answer for a minute, trying to consider how to handle this when he’d gotten so used to lying. Telling the truth would just put them in jeopardy, and he wasn’t sure how much Hannibal knew about his lies, if he knew just how much Will despised him on the inside, despised this relationship they had.

It hadn’t started immediately after they left; no, Hannibal had taken his time, had started to steadily try to woo Will, provide everything he wanted and needed while proving his love and trying to make up for the hurts of the past. Will had pretended to fall for it, had accepted the touches and courting kisses and eventually, they had come to this point. Empty sex in a full bed, Will nearly getting sick every time he let Hannibal touch him. Only at first had he actually gotten sick, something Hannibal attributed to nerves since Will had never been with a man before him, not in this capacity, and Will didn’t dare tell him the truth. But maybe Hannibal already knew. Maybe today was the day, and the blade would come for him. Close. Personal. Intimate. What a way to die.

“I know,” Will said, laconic in his reply, and rolled over onto his side, facing away from Hannibal. Hannibal pursued him, fitting his body against Will’s back and wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him close still as Will felt nausea still churning in his stomach. It would settle down soon. He almost minded the cuddling more than the sex, because it felt closer, more intimate. But he endured, all for Abigail’s sake. And his own, but to a lesser extent. He’d become much less concerned for his own safety over the past few months, but not to the point of being suicidal. He couldn’t leave her alone with Hannibal. Hannibal would just punish her for Will’s sins. And suicide was supposed to be a sin, wasn’t it?

“Please be honest with me.”

What could he say to that? What could he tell Hannibal, aside from another lie, another half-truth to save himself? “Okay,” he said, short in his reply again, wanting at this point to just sleep so he could be unconscious for a while and forget about his circumstances. He took Hannibal’s silence as his cue, and the last thing he felt before he fell asleep was Hannibal pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

***

He knew that Will didn’t love him. It was obvious in his actions, in the false affection and imagined care. He didn’t blame Will for pretending; after all, he was most likely only doing it for Abigail’s sake, to keep her safe from the big bad wolf. And for his sake, but to a lesser extent. Will had shown an alarming lack of self-preservation recently, nearly getting hit by a motorcycle in Florence because he hadn’t looked both ways before crossing the street. Like he just didn’t care about himself anymore. He’d been shaving infrequently, taking very little care of himself, and some of his care had fallen to Hannibal. He hardly ate, unless Hannibal forced him, slowly wasting away day after day as Hannibal pretended not to notice. He just didn’t seem to care anymore, trapped in this relationship that he clearly didn’t want, lying to Hannibal about a love that Hannibal desperately wished existed, but clearly didn’t.

But he was going to set Will free. He was going to kill them both.

It was a plan that’d been forming in his mind for weeks now, steadily growing into something more solid, real. He didn’t want to do it, but he felt that he had to. Will was unhappy and lying to him as well as himself at every turn and wasting away steadily because he just didn’t want to take care of himself anymore, and only seemed to try for Abigail. Only did anything because of Abigail. And Hannibal couldn’t stand to see him hurting so much, even if he finally had the relationship he’d always wanted with Will.

Only it wasn’t the relationship he’d always wanted, was it? It was different, because Will didn’t love him like he loved Will, didn’t share the same feelings that Hannibal so ardently held for him. And it hurt more than anything that Hannibal had experienced in his life, even losing Mischa. From the moment he met Will, he was the only thing he ever wanted, and now that he had him…well. It just wasn’t right. He couldn’t make Will love him, any more than Will could make himself love him, as hard as he seemed to be trying, though recently it seemed that he’d given up on that fiction. Had given up on everything.

He turned the blade over in his hands, curved, sharp, reflecting the cool light of the room. It’d be easy. He’d have Will gutted before he even knew what hit him, and then he’d move on to Abigail while Will watched. Just like he would have done that night if Will hadn’t said yes, hadn’t agreed to run off with the two of them and start a family of their own. All Hannibal needed was the two of them, but it seemed that Will needed more than that to be happy. Or rather less. He needed Hannibal to be gone. And that simply wasn’t an option.

He headed for the door to the bedroom, adjusting his waistcoat as he went, hiding the blade in his sleeve, ready to drop down in an instant, and opened the door, stopping in the doorway. In the living room, Will and Abigail were sitting on the floor, Will laughing—genuinely, for once—at something Abigail said. Abigail had her knitting needles out and was showing Will how to knit, smiling as he tried and fumbled a little bit, but eventually got it, talking to her as he began to move in the even, easy rhythm that came with knitting steadily. His first attempt at it was clearly coming out a little uneven, bumpy and clearly a first effort on his part. It looked like he was knitting a scarf, and from their discussion it seemed that it was for Hannibal.

Hannibal paused, feeling the blade up his sleeve, and closed the door again, stepping back into the bedroom. He pulled the knife out of his sleeve, returning it to its hiding place, and stepped out into the living room, smiling back as he was greeted with smiles and invited into the conversation. He hadn’t seen Will look so happy in weeks, maybe months, and Abigail was as vibrant as ever, so full of youth and life.

He couldn’t do it. Not today, at least. He loved them both too much for that, to end such a happy moment in such a tragic way. Maybe things would be alright. Maybe Will would begin to love him, he thought as Will seemed to unconsciously lean his head against Hannibal’s shoulder, still knitting the rather unfortunate scarf that Hannibal would wear with pride anyway because it was from _Will_. And Abigail, tangentially.

No, not today. And maybe never. He didn’t know how things would turn out in the future, if Will’s feelings would change. Maybe they would, maybe he could grow to love Hannibal and they could be a happy family together. For now, he could content himself with this, stealing a kiss from Will that Will actually smiled at. He loved them more than anything in the world, and right now he had both of them. Everything would work out, in the end. He would make sure it did.

 


End file.
